Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Poem 3

Running on Empty

Ol' Jackson Browne had sung a song that said
"In '65 I was seventeen…"
We're of an age, JB and I. Not dead
As yet but near enough. I was naïve.

I knew that soon the "olds" would die and we
Would sail upon a Sea of Love and Peace.
The Beatles sang to me: "You won't see me."
I thought for sure my joy would not decrease.

So Camelot was strong and Truth was "cool".
I left the arc of the new age to those
That had the time to spare and cared to rule.
Their life was poetry and mine was prose.

Now nearly fifty years since then have gone.
I think my life's been good. I'm not ashamed
and fairly free of deeds I wish undone,
with fewer sins for which I could be blamed.

My one regret I now declare I see:
I let my brothers set my course for me.
I'll say to readers born in '96:
You cannot leave it all for them to fix.

No comments:

Post a Comment